


Horse Thief

by foldedpages



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: AU - Old West, Angst, Awkwardness, Day 2, F/M, Fluff, cowboys probably, mlfandomweek, plagg is a horse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-16
Updated: 2016-08-16
Packaged: 2018-08-09 03:17:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7784557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foldedpages/pseuds/foldedpages
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adrien Agreste escapes from his controlling father's Texas ranch and flees to Nevada, where he befriends Marinette, but he is plagued by his father's insidious plots to bring him back home. The only horse he ever stole was his own, he swears!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Horse Thief

**Author's Note:**

> I almost never write AUs like this, but in the spirit of MLFandomWeek, here I go. I have been sick all day, so I don't have much to share with you (yet). Bear with me.

The Dupain-Cheng bakery was its own kind of oasis in the vast wasteland still known as the Wild West. It was on Stonewood’s wide Main Street, snuggled between a dry goods store and a tailor shop. The city had grown into a boomtown over the past decade, teeming with people from all over the world as they searched for their fortunes or their freedom.

Adrien Agreste discovered the bakery by accident as he walked his tired horse into town. He had ridden him too hard in his desperation, and they were both exhausted, but he thought, as he looked at the mountains that rose up on all sides of Stonewood, he might have run far enough to be able to rest. It might have been worth it.

He had been met so far with a lot of “no vacancy” signs at hotels and boarding houses. The sunset cast hard shadows, and Adrien could feel the coming chill of night. His legs threatened to give out, but he needed to at least find a stable to board his horse for the night.

His hunger got the better of him when he glimpsed the bakery window. He tethered his horse to a wooden post and walked in. Warm and thick with the scent of freshly baked bread, the bakery immediately felt more like home than his own home ever had. It wasn't busy, not at this hour, but he felt surrounded by people as Mr. Dupain and his wife greeted him. He felt unsteady, his legs more used to riding instead of walking, and the atmosphere of the bakery overwhelmed him.

The past several weeks had been very long for the young man. He had made the decision to leave at the spur of the moment, but somehow his father already knew. He had foreseen his son’s rebellion against his iron rule. Almost as soon as his feet landed on the ground beneath his second story bedroom window, Adrien could hear the dogs. What kind of father chases down his own son with underfed bloodhounds?

His horse Plagg had already been saddled; Adrien at least had a friend in the stable boy, but his relief was short lived. He knew the supplies in the saddlebags were inadequate for what he had planned, but he rode as fast as he could to escape. He didn't look back. He didn't need to to know that his father stood emotionless on the balcony watching him go.

His father’s lackies followed him for days, so he only stopped when his horse needed to rest. He’d felt more comfortable when he reached New Mexico territory. The heat beat down on him relentlessly, and his canteens ran dry. Plagg ate what he could and kept moving, and Adrien, exhausted, tried not to believe in the mirages on the horizon. He was too scared to even doze while he rode. They finally came to a town where they could resupply. Adrien even got a bed for the night. But in the morning, he found his own face on a wanted poster outside the post office, and he knew he would have to run farther.

Horse thief. His father had wired ahead, claiming that Adrien was a dangerous horse thief and offering a reward for his capture alive. He might never be able to stop running.

Texas was a long way off now, and with it, so was his father’s ranch. But he didn't feel safe. He was hungry and tired and haunted by how far his father would go to get his son back under his control.

Mr. Dupain asked the new customer what he wanted for a third time. Adrien hadn’t answered yet, hadn't even acknowledged the question. He blinked and put his hand on the cool glass display. He had decided on the apple pie, but he couldn't seem to say it. His throat was dry and tight, and the room seemed to sway around him.

Like the old wooden swing he played on as a child. With Chloe.

He heard himself hit the floor, but it took a moment for him to realize that he himself had made such an unceremonious thunk. That he was laying on the floor looking up at a large French man with concerned eyes and a small Chinese woman with a frown. He wanted to apologize, to get up, to leave with whatever shred of dignity he had left, but he couldn't. He felt like he was still riding, the sun beating down on him, his sore body rocking a little with the movement.

They asked him questions he barely heard, and when strong arms lifted him up, the darkness that had been creeping into his vision finally took hold of him.

\---

Her hands deftly repairing a tear in his duster - from when the dogs came close to catching him - were the first thing he saw when he woke up. They were small hands, clean and delicate, working expertly with the needle.

She looked up from her work and smiled at him just a little, her black hair shining in the sun from the open window. Her eyes were blue, and he thought there were lakes that would be jealous of that color. He didn't have the energy to smile, but he tried, the corners of his mouth tugging back slightly and his eyes softening.

“Papa,” she called, getting up from the rocking chair and laying his now repaired - and clean - duster over the back of it. “Papa, our new friend is awake.”

 _Friend_. She had said _friend_. He had just barely been awake in her presence, and she had already shown him more kindness than he was accustomed to.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Feedback is always appreciated. :)


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